


One Ring to Bind Her

by hyperbolic_jester



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:31:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16320950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperbolic_jester/pseuds/hyperbolic_jester
Summary: There comes a time in every girl's life when she has to brave the zombie infested wasteland to procure the perfect engagement ring for her girlfriend.  Alicia Clark has it all planned out until her run goes wrong and she's left dealing with the consequences of her actions.





	One Ring to Bind Her

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody.  This is going to be part of a series that wouldn’t fit in the arc of the other story, but I dearly love these bits and wished they worked better with the other’s narrative flow.

Alicia rested her weight on her forearms against the cloth wrapped handlebars of her bulky dirt bike, assessing the walker threat in and surrounding Algaia’s Jewelers, located at the far reaches of their foraging range.  She leaned back and took a long swig of water from her red and grey striped canteen. Outside was pretty clear, as far as she could tell. The biggest risks were from the strip mall at the other end of the parking lot, where Alicia could see walkers ambling into the doors and windows of the large electronics store.  As long as they stayed in there, she would probably be fine. She was in some rather strong need of a ring at this particular moment, and she was willing to risk quite a bit for it.

 

Al had surprised her last Tuesday with lamb shaiyah, Alicia’s very favorite thing, on the date of their one year anniversary.  Alicia sobbed while standing in the doorway to the kitchen, because while she hadn’t exactly forgotten, she also hadn’t realized the date had arrived.  Having picked up the skill of tracking time while on assignment in Zimbabwe, Al said she understood that not everyone had that skill. She had taken Alicia’s face in her hands and kissed her soundly, telling her not to worry about it.  That was when Alicia knew she needed to come out here for a run today. 

 

She’d passed this place on her furthest runs, but never paid that much mind to it until now.  All she needed at this point, was to get in, get out, and get home. Taking one more glance around, and finding neither dead nor living in the streets, she decided to clear the store.  

 

She crept silently towards the store, her feet rolling from heel to toe, until she reached the glass door.  She tapped the glass with her sharpened gun barrel, the sharp point making a thin, high-pitched scraping noise that raised gooseflesh on Alicia’s arms.  She saw motion from the back of the store as two walkers rose from behind the counter. They both shambled awkwardly towards the front door.

 

She pulled out a set of lockpicks and set about the task of picking the lock.  No need to ruin the structural integrity of a door she might need later if she didn’t have to.  She took a moment to thank the owners for not putting the gates down, making her job a whole lot easier.  Once the lock clicked open, Alicia pulled the door open slowly, bracing it with her foot. 

  
When the walker tried to poke its head through, she jammed her gun barrel into its mushy forehead.  It sank to the ground, while the one behind it tried to clamber over it to get her. She maneuvered the gun barrel in the gap and connected with its eye socket.  She peered inside, leaving the door ajar so that she could listen for additional movement. Once she determined that nothing more was coming she entered, shoving the walkers out of the way with her foot.  She carefully examined the main area of the shop, before clearing the remainder of the store. Now, time to pick out the ideal ring for her proposal. 

Alicia cleared the thick layer of dust off of the first display case she came to.  It contained a fine selection of expensive men’s watches. She turned around and walked to case on the other side of the store, repeating the process.  Wedding bands. She was getting closer. She moved on to the case to its left. This one had engagement rings, but they were all diamond. After discussing Al’s experience with the bloody reality behind most of the world’s diamonds, Alicia knew that Al would not appreciate any of these.   

 

The next case over  was the category she was looking for.  Inside were rings with birthstones and other precious gems.  She searched the two bodies before finding the keys in the the front pocket of the blazer of the walker’s faded blue skirt suit.  She unlocked the case and pulled the drawer towards herself. There was a row and a half of rubies, followed by emeralds and sapphires.

 

And there it was.  The ring was perfect.  It consisted of a plain, narrow silver band with tiny leaves springing from the band’s head, clutching an iridescent stone that oscillated between purple and a deep blue.  She didn’t even have to look at the rest to know that  this was it.  She turned it in her hand, watching the colors shift.  

 

She moved behind the counter to hunt through various supplies, until she located the ring boxes.  She tried to get the dust off of a lovely purple one, but failed. She settled for a grey that did an excellent job of hiding the grime.  She quickly fitted the ring into its slot in the material. The box then got zippered into the pocket of her biker jacket. She grabbed her gun barrel and left the store.

 

As she was taking one last look around before heading home, she saw a record store towards the back of the strip mall and an idea began to form about the specifics her proposal.

 

Al’s super duper top secret favorite song was Taylor Swift’s “Love song,” which she had disclosed upon threat of Alicia’s imminent and agonizing death.  The curator of the fine collection of vinyl back at the house had not appreciate Ms. Swift’s finer songwriting, preferring Bach and Iron Maiden. This meant that Al hadn’t heard it in the better part of five years.  Combined with the can of Ravioli Alicia had scrounged on her last excursion far afield, which represented their first meal together and bottle of dandelion wine from Eugene, which represented their future, Alicia had the consumables covered.

 

She trotted across the parking lot, past the large group of walkers pawing at locked the doors to the mini mart.  She took a long look into the record store. There was a small group of the dead, dressed as hipsters, all tight jeans and faded ironic t-shirts.  One had a mustache braided on either corner of what had once been its lips. It’s mostly detached jaw tapped against the glass of the door with an eerie rhythm.

 

Alicia pulled the same trick with the door to the record store as the jewelry store, wiping ichor of of her hand after driving the gun barrel through Braided Mustache’s nose.  She didn’t bother moving the corpses out of the way, stepping most of the way over the pile. Snagging a plastic basket from next to the cash register, she headed for the pop section.  No luck. She snagged a Katy Perry album while she was in the section, before wandering over towards country. She stopped in the punk section to see if they had any of Al’s favorite bands.  Sex Pistols, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Offspring all went into the basket. 

 

She meandered over to the country section, keeping an eye out for anything else they might want.  Fortune blessed her, as there was precisely one copy of one Taylor Swift album. It wasn’t Al’s favorite as a whole, but did have Al’s favorite song.  She’d take it. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Alicia’s neck stood up on end. 

 

The gravelly moan of the dead with the snaps of chomping teeth came from behind her.  She whirled around to see that the dead were wandering in from somewhere in the back.  _ There must be a gap in the wall with the store, _ she thought with dread.  She grabbed her gun barrel   
There were already two between herself and the door, and more were making their way in.  How had she missed them?

 

She bolted down the isle, trying to reach the door before the walkers.  Unfortunately, they had too much of a head start. She shoved the closest into the one behind it, pressing her forearm into its stomach to keep it out of reach of fetid jaws.  She followed up with a strike from her gun barrel. Just when she was pulling it out for another strike, she felt a set of jaws clamp down on her shoulder, with sharp fingernails clawing her neck.  She jammed her gun barrel into a skull as she executed an over the shoulder strike, while kicking out at the new walker in front of her. It stumbled backwards and the other thudded to the ground behind her.  She yanked her blade free, and stabbed the walker in front of her. More were pouring in, but there was just enough space that she could turn and run out. She hoped.

 

She made it to the door before discovering an additional complication.  The body pile had shifted, so now she wouldn’t be able to open the door quickly.  She rapidly decided that she wasn’t going to even try. Instead, holstered her weapon and ran.  Grabbing what she had no doubt was a ludicrously expensive signed electric guitar on display, she swung it into the window.  A large crack spiderwebbed outward. From what she could hear, she had one more good swing before they were on her, so she went for the fences.  Glass exploded outward, leaving a hole that was big enough for her to fit through without a doubt.

 

As she climbed through, she glass pierced her shin, dragging down in a long, bloody cut.  She didn’t bother to look, instead bolting for her bike. She made it without any further issue, hopping on and kick starting it before glancing back to see walkers stumbling out of the hole she made.  One had stopped to lick the blood on the glass from her leg. She put the handles of the basket that, by some massive miracle, was still in her hands on her handlebars, then put it in gear to beat a hasty retreat.

 

She went several miles before stopping to take stock of her injuries.  She kept the bike running, in case any more walkers decided to show. The first thing she checked was the shoulder that had been bitten, shoving her leather jacket out of the way with shaky hands.  No breaks in the skin. She wasn’t bitten. The leather had saved her. Next, she felt around her neck, determining that those scratches, while bloody, weren’t serious. Finally, she took a look at the laceration on her shin.  That would need to be bandaged, and eventually stitched. Her hands shot to her zipped pocket, just to be sure that her carelessness hadn’t cost her the whole point of this excursion.

 

The ride back was long.  She took care to time her return after most had gone to bed so she could avoid inconvenient questions.  It was dark enough, the gate guards didn’t catch her injuries, so she put the bike back in Alexandria’s parking lot.  She grabbed her basket.

 

Alicia made a beeline for the infirmary.  The fewer that knew about this, the better.  Al was destined to find out unless she planned on wearing a turtleneck and leggings at all times until her wounds healed.  This was unrealistic. Particularly, given how much dirty sex she had planned for  _ after _ the proposal.

 

The light was on in the infirmary.  As she stepped up to the porch, she could see Denise reading a thick book at her desk.  Rather than rapping on the door, which might wake others, she simply slipped inside, shutting the screen door gently behind her.  Denise heard the click of the door and startled, jolting upright, her arms twitching.

 

“Ohmigosh!”

 

Alicia chuckled openly.  “Engrossing reading?”

 

“You scared me.”

 

“Clearly.”

 

Denise took a moment to look her over.  She whistled. “You clearly had some of your own excitement.”

 

Denise gasped when her eyes saw Alicia’s shoulder.  “No. Oh, no, no, no.”

 

“Relax.  It’s just the jacket.  I checked. I will say, I might be advocating for leather jackets for everyone.  That sucker bit down hard.”

 

“Well, let’s hope whatever you brought back was worth it,” Denise said as she glanced into the shopping basket, “Which it seriously wasn’t.  Sit on the table, keep the jacket on to keep you warm while I stitch up that shin.”

 

Alicia complied.  Denise’s instrument tray rattled as she wheeled it over.  Alicia sat in silence as she watched Denise work. She was impressed with the skills of a doctor who had started out a psychiatrist.  Wounds scarred more often, but people lived or got to keep limbs, and that was really what mattered these days anyway. Alicia was lucky, in that the glass hadn’t broken off in her wound, so the suturing process was fairly straightforward.  The nail scratches on her neck only required soap and water irrigation before bandaging. Denise chuckled softly. “You are so damned lucky. Enjoy your freedom now, because I would not want to be you when Al sees that. And for records? You should have just checked in with me.  We have a bunch of Clash and Guns ‘N’ Roses in the attic.”

 

“You’re right.  The records weren’t worth it,”  Alicia unzipped her pocket and produced the small box.  “This, however, totally was. If you could stash this and the basket of records up with the Clash and GnR in your attic, that would be super.”

 

The shocked look on Denise’s face was worth telling someone early.  She quickly slapped her hand on her mouth to contain the high squeal.  Alicia flashed a dopey grin. “You can tell Tara, because that would be mean of me to make you keep this from her.  But no one else.”

 

Denise nodded.  “When are you going to do it?  Is there anything else you need?”

 

“Basically, as soon as she’s done being pissed about my injuries and I can get her alone with my dandelion wine and ravioli.  So, probably early next week.”

 

“What are you doing with dandelion wine and ravioli?  Because those together sound nasty,” Tara said as she rounded the corner wearing her pajamas, sanding the finishing touches into her wood carving of a bear.  She whistled as she got a good look at Alicia’s injuries, before her eyes widened at the sight of Alicia’s shoulder. 

 

Alicia moved the jacket and neck of her t-shirt out of the way.  “Didn’t make it all the way through.”

 

“Al is going to kill you.  And then bring you here for Denise to fix.  I’m not sure wine and canned pasta are going to save you.”

 

“No,” Denise playfully swatted Tara’s shoulder, “that’s not what those are for.  They’re for the box.”

 

Denise pointed at the ring box.  Tara squinted for a moment, stepping closer to get a better look.  “Oh, holy cats! Can we see?”

 

“Sure.  But like I told Denise, this stays between the two of you.  If anyone asks, I didn’t find anything good out there.”

 

“Don’t,” Denise cautioned.  “The first person that should see that is Al.  We can wait a couple of months, which is probably how long it’s going to be before she’s done being mad at you, given how far that sucker made it through the leather.  Tara, take note. Should this ever be something we do, I would rather wear a ring made out of twist ties than have you risk your fool neck like this. Understood?”

 

Tara nodded, as her eyebrows shot up, mouth opened, and eyes grew even wider.  The corner of Alicia’s mouth turned up as she realized that, if her facial expression had been any indicator, this had been something that Tara was giving very serious consideration to.  Alicia also caught that Denise had very purposefully looked away, so Tara, with her distinct lack of poker face, could retain the element of surprise.

 

“On that note, I’m going to get home.  Hopefully she won’t notice until tomorrow and I can get some sleep before I have to work my way out the doghouse.”

 

“Good luck,” Tara waved.

 

Alicia slid down off of the table and limped to the door.  She stopped in the doorway and turned back to her friends. “Thanks, Denise, for the dressings and the hiding spot.  Thank you both for the secrecy.”

 

Alicia found the house to be completely dark when she got home.  Al must be in bed. Slipping silently through the door, she hung her jacket on the peg next to the entryway.  Shoes came off and went underneath her coat.

 

She stopped in the kitchen to get something to eat and drink, snagging a slice of leftover apple crisp and a cream soda from the fridge.  The house remained silent, except for the soft hum of the heater, banishing the cool fall air to the outside. This was broken by the sharp hiss of the carbonation as she pulled back the soda’s tab and soft chewing of crunchy apples, sugar, and oatmeal.  She whispered a quiet prayer of thanks that she was still alive to eat apple crisp and get yelled at.

 

Finally, she was standing in the door of their bedroom, silvery moonlight covering their bed, and the woman sleeping in it, in pale squares from the window grills.  Beautiful. It was not the first time her breath had been stolen in this manner, just the first after a near death experience. 

 

“Are you going to stand there, or are you and your apple crisp breath coming to bed?” Al murmured.  

 

“Definitely coming to bed.  It’s been a long day, and you’re impossible to resist for long.”

 

Alicia shed her clothing, tossing them into the hamper across the room and far away from Al’s clever nose, which might pick up on the blood.  She crawled under the sheets and comforter behind Al, sliding her goose-pebbly arms around Al’s warm belly. Al hummed contentedly. Alicia placed a kiss right behind Al’s ear, and settled back into the space between their pillows, behind Al’s neck.  Before long, she was snoring softly.

 

“ALICIA!” an angry voice tinged with fear shouting from downstairs roused her from deep slumber.  Alicia scrubbed the heels of her palms on her sleepy eyes. Blinking and sniffling, she sat up in bed and wrapped the comforter around her naked torso.  The sound of feet stomping up the stairs was louder than Alicia could imagine coming from such a tiny person. She tightened her grip on the comforter.

 

Al appeared in the doorway, eyes teary, nostrils flaring, and lip quivering.  Shaking Alicia’s jacket, her fist gripping the leather near the bite mark, her voice stricken.  “You got bit and didn’t tell me?”

 

Alicia slid the comforter off of her shoulder, which was sporting a brand new bruise, but no bite.  “See. No bite. I’m okay.”

 

“Then what’s that bandage on your neck?”

 

“Just a scratch.  Denise patched me up, just fine.”

 

“No, not just fine,” she stuck her fingers into the tears in the leather, “You were literally a few centimeters away from turning.  From being gone forever.”

 

Alicia threw modesty out the window, dropping the blanket.  She stood up and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around Al’s neck and burying her face in the warm crook of Al’s neck.  The air was chill on her skin, but Al’s body was warm. She drew a shaky breath.

 

“I know.  It was so stupid.”

 

“What was so important to take on walkers by yourself?  I know you didn’t take anyone with you this time.”

 

“You’re not going to be happy about it.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”

 

“Records.  I was getting us more music.”

 

“You’re right,” Al pulled back.  “That was ludicrously stupid. I figured it had to be something like a crate of sardines or SPAM.  Even a case of Cheetos! At least you can eat those. But fucking records?”

 

“I know.  It was really bad.  I thought the store was clear. They came in through, what I assume, was a fallen wall in the far back.”

 

“Going inside anywhere without backup for anything was preposterous,” Al stormed past her, rooting through their dresser without any particular care about where its contents went.  She slammed one drawer shut, and forcefully opened the next one down.

 

“You’re right, it was.  I’m sorry.”

 

“Get cleaned up and dressed,” Al shoved the pile of clothing at her. “And think, for just a moment, all of the other wonderful talents you have to offer Alexandria that don’t include serving as a glorified golden retriever, because that was your last run.”

 

Al wheeled and stalked out.  “I’m spending the day with Denise.”

 

Alicia took a step after her, before deciding it would probably be better to let her cool off.  She glanced down at the clothes in her arms, none of which matched, and was short a pair of underwear.  Alicia snickered for a second. Then her face fell when she realized she had just lost one of her co-conspirators for Operation Proposal.  Tara was out on a real run today, so now she had no one. She desperately needed advice, because Al was definitely angrier than Alicia had anticipated.

 

She sulked through her shower and wallowed through her waffles.  Why was Al still mad? She’d apologized and admitted she was wrong, and everything.  That was supposed to at least count for something.

 

This was how she found herself brooding in an Adirondack chair under the pergola by the pond.  She heard the creaking of the floorboards underneath the weight of wheelchair wheels. Morgan pulled up next to her, flashing a bright smile.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I come in peace.  Denise sent me. Said you had a project you needed help with.”

 

“Oh.  Thanks,” She blushed, properly chastised.  Alicia took a long look around to be certain they wouldn't be overheard.  “Yesterday, I found the perfect ring. Got the perfect food, the perfect music.  If I hadn’t almost been bitten in the process, it would probably be enough. Now, she’s furious, so this is probably going to have to be jumbotron at the ballpark on the first day of the World Series epic for her to even consider it.”

 

Morgan laughed and shook his head.  “What you need now is time for her to cool down.  That girl would follow you back to Los Angeles by way of Brazil if you asked her to.  The one thing you can’t ask is for her to bury you for carelessness.”

 

“I know.  I tried to apologize, but she was too freaked out.”

 

Morgan nodded.  “The upshot is, now you’ve got time to make it good.  I’d be glad to help you with that.”

 

“Can I ask how you popped the question to your wife?”

 

Morgan’s face grew somber.  “You know, I haven’t talked about that since… but, kid, you need all the help you can get.”

 

He grinned, and she swatted harmlessly at his shoulder.  “Hey!”

 

“Jenny.  Oh, Jenny…”  Morgan stroked his stubble thoughtfully.  “I met her at the little coffee and pastry shop she owned in Atlanta.  I was in my final year at Georgia Tech, studying architecture. I came in there damned near every day to study.  She was there every time, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Before I could get my courage up to ask her out, she did it for me.  Said, ‘if I wait around for you to do it, you’d be at that back table drawing pretty pictures of your buildings until we were old and grey.’”

 

“The day I asked her to marry me, I took her to the Swan House, a gorgeous piece of classic Georgia architecture.  I bought the fanciest wine I could afford from some tiny region in France that had some distinctive coffee overtones.  I baked the most god-awful pastry to go with it. It was supposed to be light and flaky, and very French. It was none of those things.  She didn’t mind, though, because I had a copy of the blueprint of the house I was building us screen printed on a tablecloth. And that’s the key.  You get that one thing right, the whole rest of it can fall apart, the way those damned pastries wouldn’t.”

 

Alicia stared contemplatively out at the smooth waters of the pond.  A great blue heron ducked its fierce beak below the water at the far end, hunting for fish.  A dragonfly darted towards them before taking a sharp left. She shook her head. “What does that even mean?”

 

“It means you pick something special to her, or both of you, and then build on that.  What matters most to her?”

 

“God, it’s so obvious, but her videos.  I don’t even have to think about it.”

 

“So…”

 

“So, I make her a video?  I can’t even set up a bluray player.”

 

“Don’t you think Al knows that?  Anything you put that much effort into is going to work.”

 

“Ok, let’s do this.”  She said, fist bumping Morgan.

 

Alicia jogged back to the house, trying to hurry without being conspicuous.  Once inside, she ran downstairs, grabbing Al’s backup camera and a cassette off of Al’s basement workbench.  She procured the necessary costuming from upstairs and was off to meet Morgan and Carl at the SWAT wagon.

 

They drove it out to the road leading to Hilltop.  They videotaped a re-enactment of how Alicia and Al first met, with Morgan playing Al.  Then, they made a scene of the long road trip, with Alicia and Morgan rocking out to obscure Europop and bad Nu Metal while they fake-drove to Alexandria.  After taking a glance She stopped there, wanting to take her time for the final segment of the video. She would take her time with this, giving Al all of the time to be angry that she needed.

 

Three days later, Alicia had made a point of telling Al that she was headed to Hilltop to give Al that space, and that she was not going out scouting anywhere.  Al had looked sad to see her go, but Alicia said it was something she had to do. She promised on her family’s grave that she’d be back before Al knew it.

 

In the meantime, Alicia set about apprenticing to the Hilltop blacksmith.  Alexandria didn’t have their own, so Alicia had volunteered, swearing Rick to utter secrecy.  She asked him to keep an eye out for tools and materials, and he promised to start planning the forge so it would be ready for her in a few years time.  Rick was kind enough to offer to allow her to keep her home, as Al would most likely want to move to Hilltop to be with Alicia. 

 

The first couple of weeks were the hardest.  It took awhile to come into the necessary body strength, the work leaving her constantly sore as her muscles learned new motions.  She worked feverishly, along with the apprentice from The New Kingdom to learn her new trade and help the Master Blacksmith finish projects.  She grew to love the ring of the hammer on metal and the feel of working a new piece. There was something comforting in the blasting heat of the fire and sweet smell of a beeswax finish.

 

It was the final day of the first month when he handed her a long, thin box, her sole request of him, along with this weeklong vacation.  He had initially balked at that much time so soon in her education, but when she told him that she needed the time to head to Alexandria and propose to her girlfriend, he gave her his blessing.  She smiled as she brought her prize to her bike, strapped it into place, and headed out to Alexandria. There was a lot to do. She radioed ahead to Denise under the artifice of needing a medical consult, telling her to set her plan in motion.  

 

Morgan would keep Al busy while Alicia snuck into Alexandria and got everything set up in the house.  She’d heat the ravioli at Denise and Tara’s. Morgan would let her know when he dropped Al off. Al would find the video in the recorder atop the tripod the blacksmith had helped her make, and watch it.  That would give Alicia the time to get from Denise and Tara’s back home, put the pan on the stove to keep warm, and slip over to the record player to fire it up. Then, she’d drop to her knee, bust out the ring box, and pop the question.  Al would say yes; they would eat ravioli and drink dandelion wine. Simple.

 

Alicia made it to Denise and Tara’s without a hitch.  It was just Tara in the kitchen with her while she opened the tin into the pot.  One of the Alexandrian children broke his arm while playing, thus Denise was otherwise occupied.  She’d left in a huff, irritated that she was missing out on the fun. The ravioli dumped into the pan with a satisfying plop.  Alicia took a nervous breath. “What if she doesn’t remember the ravioli? Then, I got her canned pasta to ask her to marry me.  That was a terrible idea.”

 

Tara laughed and shook her head.  “No, she’ll remember. Al remembers stuff like that.  You’re going to be fine. Your biggest problem is that you’ve been gone for a whole month, and despite everybody and their dead grandmother reassuring her, she still thinks that it’s her fault.”

 

“Tara, that turn of phrase is horrible and it’s the apocalypse, everybody’s grandmother is dead.”

 

“Precisely.  Everyone. Girlfriend has been freaking out, terrified you weren’t coming back, and we have  _ all _ been telling her she’s fine.”

 

Alicia turned the corner and reached into the hall closet for the dress Denise and Tara had been hiding for her.  Stepping to the next door over, she hung the dress from the shower curtain. She’d showered at Hilltop, figuring that her time was too limited.   Worn fingers fussed with windblown hair, taming it with mists of water, curling iron, and hairspray. She managed to get the soot and grime from the forge off of her hands, but there was nothing to be done for the scrapes and wear on the skin.  She cursed under her breath as she almost dropped the blush.

 

It’d been so very long since she’d allowed herself to feel pretty.  She figured she’d seize on the opportunity while she had the chance.  Besides, she was very much looking forward to the look on Al’s face when she saw it, as Al had never seen her properly cleaned up before. 

 

Her dress was a navy knee-length party dress with thin straps supporting the fitted bodice, with a low v-neck.  She accompanied it with a pair of ruby red shoes with matching lipstick and leather clutch, into which she had put the ring box.  She finished off the look with pale blue, shimmery eyeshadow. Alicia was putting the finishing touches on her eyebrows, when Tara rounded the corner to tell her that her ravioli was bubbling, and the words died in her mouth.

 

Alicia didn’t notice Tara’s reaction, focused on smoothing the front of her dress.  “How do I look?”

 

Tara blinked, her jaw slack.  The corners of her lips twitched.  “Good. It’s, you’re, good.” 

 

Tara rushed back into the kitchen before she said anything truly stupid.  She placed a crock in a warming bag and poured the warmed ravioli into the it.  She packed it up tight, the smell of sugary tomatoes gently wafting out of the bag until she zipped the bag shut.  Alicia picked it up by the handles and snagged the wine. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. 

 

“You’ve got this,” Tara said.  “Besides, I am 95% positive that her brains are going to slide right out of her ears when she sees you.  You’d have a harder time getting her to say ‘no.’ To anything.”

 

Alicia flashed her a smile and headed out the door.  She saw Morgan wheeling away from their front porch. He shot her a thumbs up, pausing to fully take in Alicia’s new look.  She saw his lips purse and a very faint whistle pass through them.

 

Alicia crept up the porch, careful to avoid making noise with her heels.  Easing the door open, she slipped inside, making certain to stick to the carpeted areas.  She heard the video in progress in the living room, giving her time to set their dinner on the floor in the kitchen.  She fished the ring box out of the clutch, setting the clutch down next to dinner. The vid had reached the critical final monologue.

 

“Hey, Paparazzo.  You always said you collect stories, so here’s the last part of mine.  Nick was a mess, and everyone spent their lives chasing him around, risking everything to meet his needs time and time again.  This you know. What you don’t know is that you are the very first person that made me feel seen. Like who I was mattered to you enough to put me first, which you’ve done, over and over.  And that’s been the truth about the rest of my story. A story which, at some point between a lonely highway in Texas and this fancy medieval village, turned into our story. And there’s so much more to write.  All I can think about is that story and how I can’t wait to start it with you.”

 

Alicia knew that was her cue.  She pressed the button for the record she had cued up.  Taylor Swift’s voice serenading “Mine” wafted faintly across the room.  She inhaled, and crossed from the foyer into the living room through the kitchen.  The click of her heels on tile announced her presence. Al’s head snapped up from the camera.

 

Her cheeks were ruddy with tear tracks streaking down them.  She sniffled. Her wide eyes kept running up and down Alicia’s body, head to toes, as if she couldn’t quite believe that the other woman was here.  Alicia glided forward, calling upon years of dance to lend grace to movement in heels. It was kind of fun to watch Al’s normally agile brain short circuit.

 

“Whaddya say?  Be my co-anchor?”  Alicia opened the box, the alexandrite glittering in the dim light.  

 

Al stared openly at the ring for a moment, frozen in place.  Alicia’s breath caught in her throat. Despite everyone’s reassurances, she felt the anxiety weasels in her belly start to take a few test bites of her stomach.  Finally, Al took a centering breath, preparing herself to respond. A ghost of a smile settled on her face.

 

“Wow,” Al exhaled slowly.  She placed her right hand over her mouth, fresh tears springing to the corners of her eyes.  Swallowing thickly, she took a shaky breath. “Why?”

 

“What do you mean, why?”

 

“Why now?  Things were great, and then you disappear for a month.  Now, out of nowhere, you’re standing here asking me to marry you.  And God, I want… Where the Hell have you been?”

 

“Right.  The truth is, I almost got killed for this fancy rock and ridiculously romantic music we’re listening to.  You were so angry when I got back, I couldn’t do it then. I didn’t want you more upset because In was almost walker chow for a pretty bauble and a favorite record to start our lives together.  I figured that time was what we needed.”

 

“As to why I was gone so long,” Alicia continued, “That day, you asked me what I saw myself doing beyond acting as a glorified golden retriever for Alexandria, and I found my calling.  I’m apprenticing with the blacksmith in Hilltop. This will always be our home, but they have a small trailer up there for us there for the weekdays I’m learning. We can finally have a life that doesn’t involve food runs and-.”

 

That as far as Alicia got, as Al rapidly rushed across the living room, kissing Alicia so fiercely, she almost dropped the ring.  Al pulled back just enough to say, “Yes,” before attacking Alicia’s mouth with fresh vigor.

 

After a few additional minutes, Alicia tore herself away, taking a step back.  Al’s green eyes were glazed and hair messy. She flashed Alicia a questioning look.  Alicia shot her a lopsided smile. “Should probably put this on before your impossible hotness makes me drop it.”

 

Al grinned and stuck out her left hand.  Alicia fumbled with the box for a moment before sliding the ring on Al’s waiting finger.  Al’s brows knit together. “The fit is really close. How?”

 

“We can thank Judith and her seasonally appropriate Turkey Hand project.  We figured there would probably need to be some adjustment, but it gave us a ballpark.”

 

“We?  Wait, who all was in on this?”

 

“Bruce, the jeweler at The New Kingdom, Denise, Tara, Morgan, Carl, and Rick, with a little unwitting help from Judith.  It’s close enough to Thanksgiving that Turkey hands are her favorite thing right now anyway.”

 

Alicia tossed the box onto the coffee table.  Al took a moment to appreciate the dress, heels, and makeup, and the effort behind assembling all of it.  All Alicia could focus on was the collarbone peeking out of the collar of her black button-down shirt, and what it would feel like to run her palm over Al’s soft shoulder.

 

“Exquisite,” Al said, under her breath, an utterance so rare that Alicia wanted to grab Al’s camcorder and save it for posterity.  They stood across from each other, watching each other intensely, neither one making the next move. It became a quiet competition, who would break first?  Alicia inwardly flinched at her own innate stubbornness. Tonight was for Al.

 

Alicia swayed forward, stepping out of her shoes, bare feet soft on the carpet.  Al closed the distance bringing her lips within inches of Alicia’s, so close that her breath was warm on Alicia’s nose.  “I’ll have you know that all I want to do right now is fuck your brains out, but that feels totally incongruent with the lovely romantic evening you’ve assembled.”

 

“I’m open to whatever you’ve got in mind,”  Alicia murmured back. “You have yet to disappoint.”

 

“Yet?”  Al’s hands kneaded the flesh of Alicia’s back as she kissed Alicia carefully.  Alicia closed her eyes and relaxed into Al’s hands. “Are you implying tonight might end in failure?”

 

“Never.”  

 

Al made a pleased noise when Alicia reached under her shirt, slithering a hand up the skin of her back after deliberately unbuttoning both her jacket and shirt.  The other hand slid the garments off of Al’s shoulder, placing an affectionate kiss on the skin where muscle met collarbone. Alicia dragged her fingers lightly down Al’s spine, splaying them at the base to firmly draw Al closer.

 

Al’s fingers clasped on the zipper of Alicia’s dress.  They painstakingly pulled the tab downward, both to entice the senses and preserve the fabric.  She hooked her fingers into Alicia’s straps, sliding them over shoulders, then re-adjusting to grip the bodice and slide it down over Alicia’s hips.  Alicia shivered, the November air chill on her exposed skin.

 

Alicia stepped back, fingers toying with Al’s belt buckle before tugging on the strap, disengaging the prong, and flicked it open.  She fought shivers, as she worked, at the loss of the warmth from Al’s body.

 

Al examined her, eyes shimmering with desire, “Quit trying to pretend you’re not cold and come closer.”

 

“No.  Here I am, in my drawers, and you are not nearly naked enough.”

 

Al reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, tossing it out of the way.  She unbuttoned her pants and went to unzip before she, too, trembled with cold.  “Ok, I know this kind of kills the mood, but we really need to head up to bed. It’s way too chilly down here to have any fun, and I have some very distinct ideas about how I want the rest of this to go.”

 

Alicia laughed. “If you insist.”

 

They hurried upstairs together, glancing furtively at each other, longing reflected in their eyes.  They had barely gotten through the door before Al grabbed Alicia’s hips and lifted her onto her back on their bed.  She pinned Alicia’s body between a fuzzy blanket and her own warm skin. Al made quick work of her trousers and kicked off her socks.  Alicia smiled fondly, as Al was very particular about her opinions regarding sex and socks.

 

“There,” Al whispered in Alicia’s ear, “we’re even.”

 

Alicia teased, running her finger along the skin just above the utilitarian waistband of Al’s underwear.  Dragging her teeth up Alicia’s sensitive neck, Al bit the lobe of her ear before licking the helix. Alicia exhaled in a rush.  She buried her hands in Al’s short hair, pulling her mouth even, close to kissing distance, only to change directions and lick her way down Al’s windpipe.

 

Al sat back on her heels, looking down with admiration at Alicia’s body, putting her hands on the outside of Alicia’s lower thighs, giving a quick massage.  Alicia had never felt more lovely at the lust mixing with love on Al’s face. She quickly gripped Alicia’s underwear and slowly slid them off, tossing them onto the floor.  While she was standing, she removed her own and crawled back on top of Alicia. 

 

Alicia raked her fingers down Al’s back.  Al shifted for access to Alicia’s breasts.  She loved Al for always making her feel like the most voluptuous woman she’d ever met.  Alicia suffered from extreme self-consciousness about her lack of breast tissue, and Al had always, through both tender and fierce attention with hands and mouth, reinforced the idea that they were everything she could ever want.

 

Al snagged the lube in the drawer, squeezing an ample amount onto her fingers, dropping the bottle on the other pillow, just in case.  Her palm smoothed the skin on the way south, small droplets of silky liquid dripping off of her fingers easing its passage. 

 

“May I…”  Al trailed off.  They’d been together long enough that they usually knew what the other meant, stopping for clarification if absolutely necessary.  Alicia smiled and nodded. Al’s hand went to work, kneading and massaging, stroking and caressing. Al paused, eyes focused intently on Alicia’s, “Is it ok if…?”

 

“Yes,” Alicia hissed the final ‘s.’  Her breath caught in her throat as she felt Al’s fingers thrust inside of her.  Alicia bit Al hard on the shoulder as Al established a rhythm. She relaxed as heat began its slow build until she was convulsing, crying out, at the mercy of Al’s hands.

 

Alicia took a moment to soak up the afterglow before turning her attentions back to Al.  She snarled as she flipped Al onto her back, kissing her fiercely. She put the brakes on momentarily, as a plan of action was formulating, and two paths diverged, contingent on how Al was feeling.  “Hey, babe, you up for some penetration tonight?”

 

Al stopped and looked thoughtful, trying to pull rational thoughts out of thundering desire.  Alicia could tell that Al wanted the answer to be yes, but was worried that it might end in flashbacks.  Alicia carefully took Al’s jaws in her hands and stroked her cheeks. She leaned forward and kissed the corners of each of Al’s beautiful eyes.  “It’s ok for the answer to be, ‘no.’ I just wanted to get a sense of where we were headed before we went there.”

 

“Not today,” Al’s voice was filled with disappointment.  Alicia shifted from fierce to gentle, running her hands over Al’s shoulders and ribs.  Al tried to soak up Alicia’s ministrations patiently, but eagerness got the better of her, quite thoroughly turned already.  She took Alicia’s left hand in her own and whispered, “Please touch me.”

 

Alicia obliged, kissing her way down Al’s sternum, stomach, lower abdomen.  Alicia’s mouth took over, supplementing with calloused fingers. Al’s jagged gasps, interspersed with light vocalizations betrayed her utter captivation.   Frequency and intensity increased, until Al was a quivering wreck. 

 

Alicia pulled herself up, sleepily resting her head on Al’s belly.  Al ran her fingers through Alicia’s hair, softly humming Alicia’s favorite Tame Impala song.  The stereo downstairs had stopped at some point while they were otherwise occupied. Alicia could feel her eyelids growing heavy.  Before she could properly process it, she dropped off to sleep.

 

Alicia woke to the strong smell of maple sugar, sweet batter, pork fat, and sorghum coffee.  A tray clattered on her night stand and the dishes clinked as they slid together. She opened her eyes to see Al adjusting a tray of waffles, bacon, and sorghum coffee on the nightstand to ensure that it didn’t fall.  She noticed Alicia’s sleepy eyes watching her. Dropping to her knees, she leaned in to give Alicia a kiss.

 

“Hi,” she said, resting her forehead against Alicia’s.

 

“You made us waffles.”

 

“You made us ravioli.”

 

“Oh, fiddlesticks!  The food!”

 

Al laughed heartily.  “At least it wasn’t anything too costly.”

 

“Hey,” Alicia sat up.  “I’ll have you know, I got it from the finest of cans, botulism free.”

 

Al picked the tray back up and settled it in Alicia’s lap.  She flopped onto the other side of the bed, snuggling up to Alicia’s side.  Stealing Alicia’s fork when she set it down to pick up a piece of bacon, Al carved out a small portion of a waffle.  Alicia tore the bacon in half, popping her half into her mouth before handing the other to her beloved. 

 

Al finished chewing, squinting while looking thoughtfully at Alicia’s nose.  “So, what exactly did you have planned for your wedding? You strike me to be the type to have mapped it all out when you were in third grade, down to the centerpieces.”

 

“Neither of us would be happy with the wedding I planned in third grade.”

 

“You are definitely going to tell me about that someday.  So, first thing: when?”

 

“Honestly?  Given how precarious life is these days, I would say absolutely as soon as you are comfortable with.”

 

Al nodded.  “Hmm. I’m putting a pin in this, because my answer is basically, as soon as we have all of the elements in order.”

 

Al grabbed the last piece of bacon and swabbed it in the syrup.  Alicia put her fork down for a moment to roll a chunk of her hair between her fingers.  “Who do you want as attendants?”

 

“I want Morgan.”

 

“Then I call Tara and Denise.”

 

“That’s an uneven number.  I’ll ask Carl.

 

“Works for me,”  Alicia said. “Now, the most important part: cake?”

 

“I feel like maybe the food should be whatever the community can spare?”

 

“Which is true for the reception, but the cake should be something you actually want.”

 

“I vote for twelfth night cake, then.”

 

“Done. Rings?”

 

Al blushed furiously.  “I might have already gotten yours.”

 

Alicia’s eyebrows shot up.  “Oh really?”

 

“After you left, I got pissed off and went on a run that included a shopping mall on the edge of the Northwest Sector.  We were going right past the store and all I could think about was how much I missed you. I snuck off and picked out a ring.  I was back before they even noticed I was gone. We’re going to have to take it to Bruce to get it sized, but it’s a good wedding band.  I had hoped to get you an engagement ring, too, but those were all diamonds.”

 

“You were going to ask me?”

 

“Honestly?  The minute I saw you walk through the gate.  You’re lucky you got in here without me noticing.  If you weren’t back by next Tuesday, I was driving the van over to Hilltop and screaming it over the fence.”

 

Alicia completely lost her composure, dissolving into giggles.  She buried her face into Al’s shoulder, whose belly shook with laughter.  Alicia reached out to stabilize the tray as the waffles threatened to slide into Al’s lap.  

 

“I love you so much.”  Alicia’s face fell. “I didn’t get you a band.  I was afraid of jinxing the whole thing. I’ll take a group and head back to the store.”

 

“Absolutely not!  You almost got killed last time you were there.”

 

“Because I was by myself.  I’ll take a whole group. There’s some good stuff out that way for everybody.”

 

“Please don’t.  We can figure something else out.”

 

“Fine.”  Alicia fought rolling her eyes.  She had some other ideas, none of which Al would remotely approve of.  However, while Al was otherwise occupied, their little group could plan to go back to the shopping center, clear out the dead, and get food from the store for the community.  Alicia could be the getaway driver, and someone else could snag the wedding band while she sat in the car. She knew exactly which one she wanted and its location in the store.  Minimal risk. Alicia smiled to herself. She was going to get the best ring, for the best wedding. She would hammer out a life for Al, wrought iron and loveliness finished with fresh beeswax.   
  



End file.
